Words Like Violence
by Ceasefire
Summary: When Rin was born, Shiki promised that he would always protect his little brother. Even from things he didn't want to be protected from. ShikiRin, follows Rin's storyline from the game.


This entire fic is effectively a fanon interpretation of Shiki and Rin's childhood, and of their relationship through the Rin storyline in the game. It's not canon, so please don't take it too seriously.

Nitro Chiral owns Togainu no Chi, and this fanfiction is for entertainment purposes only.

* * *

When Shiki was six years old, his father told him that his mother would be dying soon. Shiki had wanted to question how he knew, but he didn't; instead, he trusted his father's word and accepted his mother's face, because he loved his father and nothing he said could have been wrong. Ten days later, Shiki found the dismembered remains of his mother in his parents' bedroom, her crimson eyes staring sightlessly and her mouth open in a silent scream. Shiki did not cry; there was no point. His father had said she would die, and his father was never wrong.

"What a shame."

Shiki had not known that his father had been watching him, but he was not surprised by the revelation. Instead, he nodded once and took two steps back so that his eyes, red like his mother's, could his father's blue ones.

"Yes," Shiki replied. "_What a shame._"

* * *

About a fortnight later, Shiki's father introduced him to his _second_ mother. She was nothing like his first mother at all - his first mother had been dark-haired and red-eyed like him. Second Mother was blonde-haired, green eyed and cold as the snow falling from the sky as his father urged him to say hello. Second Mother smiled a cold smile and slowly ran her hand over the curve of Shiki's left cheek, like she ran her hand over the curve of her own swollen stomach.

Six weeks later, Shiki listened to the cries of Second Mother from the bedroom, as she strained against the pain of childbirth and pleaded to be taken to a hospital; a request his father refused. He hated it, really. Hated _them_. They were so loud, so weak, so unhappy in their convoluted states but too human to be simpler. And so Shiki sat silently on his bed, toying with his father's katana, uninterested while Second Mother screamed and moaned and cried and cursed, and his father shouted and laughed.

Soon another cry joined theirs, but this cry was different, Shiki decided. This was the cry of something that needed protection and security, of something too small and weak to even _realise_ that it was small and weak. A few minutes later, his father came into Shiki's room and gave him a newborn baby wrapped in a bloody towel. He surveyed his sons with a grim resolve, and took his weapon from Shiki.

"I don't think this Mother will live any longer than the last."

"What a shame," Shiki said, staring at screaming, bloodied baby in his lap.

"Yes, a shame," his father replied with a smirk. "Take care of Rin, Shiki."

"Rin?"

"He's your brother. You must protect him for as long as he needs to be protected."

Shiki nodded, and his father stalked out of the room. Shiki sat in silence, watching his baby brother squirm and coo in his lap, and completely ignored the renewal of the screams, pleading and cries from the next room.

* * *

After Second Mother died, Shiki's father got more violent. Shiki didn't particularly care that his father took out his frustration on him, because he knew that he would eventually be stronger than his father. It was all a test of patience, and with every bruise and bleeding wound, Shiki's confidence grew.

The day that their father raised a hand against Rin was to be his last. After all, he had said Rin needed to be protected, and Shiki wasn't past protecting his brother from the man who had given them both life. The day that Shiki found Rin cowering in the corner of their room when he came home from school, eye blackened and lip bleeding, he knew it was time for him to show their father exactly how much stronger than him he had become.

When Shiki returned to their room, Rin had stopped crying. The younger boy could only stare at his brother as he wiped the splashes of blood and gore from his skin and clothes, as if he was a snake shedding its skin.

"Father is dead."

"Was he sick?"

"Maybe," Shiki said. "But we don't need Father. I'll protect you."

"I know," Rin said simply, and Shiki smiled a slow smile and drew his brother into a hug.

* * *

And that was how they lived for the next decade and a half. Shiki kept Rin safe, and Rin knew that Shiki had to be the one to keep him safe. No one else. Shiki liked the feeling of having so dearly dependent on him, liked the feeling that he was almost God in the eyes of his sweet-natured little brother. But time made a fool of Shiki, and so did _he_, the bastard who took his brother from him and taught him to defend himself.

Kazui this, Kazui that. Shiki hated it, really. Hated _him_. But not Rin. Rin was blinded by weakness and the desire to grow strong. Shiki didn't know why Rin needed to be strong when he had him to protect him.

The day that Rin came home with two stiletto daggers in his hands and Kazui's mark on his neck, Shiki loses his temper and throws him across their bedroom. One of Rin's own weapons leaves a gash across his palm, stains the white sheets of the their beds as he scrambles for purchase and lashes out at Shiki. Shiki bats his brother away, but is more careful this time; Rin lands harmlessly on his bed and glares, but Shiki doesn't care. He knows Rin is not to blame for this. He leaves to find this Kazui, leaves to show him that Rin needs no one but him to protect him.

When Shiki returns home later that evening, Rin is gone. Shiki is not surprised, but he grows annoyed when Rin doesn't come home later that night, or the next day, or the day after that, or the month or year after that. Shiki grows restless, almost bored waiting for his brother, so when a masked man comes to him with an interesting proposition, he doesn't say know and follows the man to the ruins of Toshima. It will keep him occupied, at the very least.

When, on the first day of the "contest", Shiki sees a flash of blonde hair, blue eyes and unbound revenge and malice, he smirks.

He has made the right choice.

* * *

Rin leaves Shiki to die in the rain. The flesh of his leg is cut down to the bone, and he can barely support his own weight with his one good leg and the broken blade of Shiki's katana, but he doesn't care. It is done, and he has had his revenge. One thing his brother never understood was that if he could grow to be strong, so could Rin. Another thing that Shiki never understood was that he did feel real malice towards him. After he killed Kazui, Rin let his hatred to fester and rot until he hurt down to his very soul.

The final thing that Shiki never understood was that he was not invincible.

As Rin tried to drag himself away from his brother's final resting place, he was surprised to hear a choked, gurgling laugh coming from the man who he had thought was dead.

"What a shame."

And with a surprising amount of strength, Shiki forced Rin's head down and pressed their lips together, the taste of his blood tainting any tenderness the moment may have once held.

Rin pulled away as if burned, spit a mouthful of Shiki's blood onto the ground and struck his brother across the face with what little remained of his strength.

"Don't speak to me."

"The words... do they hurt?"

"No," Rin hissed. "They don't harm me, not anymore."

"Hmm," Shiki purred, blood and spit running from the corner of his mouth. "I don't believe you."

Shiki's hand fell limp against the back of Rin's hair, and the cold water of the rain took the place of the tears that Rin refused to cry.

**END**

Comments are always appreciated.


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